


Paranormal Blacktivity

by Lady_Blackwater



Series: Oakland's Very Own [5]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black Character(s), Domestic Bliss, Erik Killmonger Has Feelings, Erik Killmonger Lives, Erik Killmonger Redemption, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Love Confessions, Never get in the way of a fat girl and her food, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Soft Erik Killmonger, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 08:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21455125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Blackwater/pseuds/Lady_Blackwater
Summary: Sienna takes her food very seriously. Erik learns the hard way.
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Oakland's Very Own [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1353331
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	Paranormal Blacktivity

**Author's Note:**

> I love my beta, HalcyonSeasons. 
> 
> This fic inspired by [this tweet!](https://twitter.com/TouchedByTy/status/1190872148451221505?s=20)
> 
> Enjoy!

“I know this nigga didn’t,” Sienna whispers to herself with a shake of her head. “I just _ know _ he didn’t.” 

Sienna further inspects the contents within the plastic takeout box to ensure that her leftover fettuccine Alfredo, broccoli, and grilled chicken has indeed been picked on. The remainder of her food stares back pitifully, almost as if they want to apologize for allowing themselves to be eaten by someone other than Sienna. 

_ He did, though, _ they seem to say. _ Girl, you know he did. _

She snaps the plastic lid back onto the container, slams the fridge shut, and then stomps into the living room where Erik sits on the couch, heavily engrossed in a game of _ 2K _. 

“Cheatin’ ass nigga!” Erik yells into the headset, thumbs and fingers thumping heavily on the controller’s buttons. “Get that weak ass shit off my—babe, _ move _!” 

Sienna stands defiantly right in front of the television, arms crossed, head cocked sideways, and vision red with irritation at the man before her. He doesn’t even bother looking at her fully when he bobs and weaves around her frame to see the screen. 

“No, I’m not lagging, bruh,” he explains in frustration to his teammate. “This girl blocking the screen like she crazy, and I can’t see shit.”

“E, I’ma ask once and you better not lie,” she prompts, trying her best to stay calm even when he reaches forward to scoot her out of the way. “Did you—”

“Nigga, how you miss that shot?” 

“—or did you not eat my leftovers?” she finishes, dodging his hand. 

“Foul?!” he exclaims. 

Sienna blinks impatiently and bends forward to be on his level. “So, you gon’ act like I’m not standing here asking you a question?” she demands, and Erik breaks his infuriated gaze at the television screen to shoot quick daggers at her then look back at the game. 

“Fuck you going on about?” he asks, peering around her. 

Sienna stands upright again, hip popped out. “Why you eat my leftovers?”

He sneers. “You fucking with my game over some bullshit?” 

She already knows he did it, but the nerve he has about it makes it worse. Her skin grows hot. “So, you admit you ate my food?”

“Bruh, move yo ass,” he demands, but Sienna can’t tell who he’s talking to. Regardless, she doesn’t move.

“Say you ate my food and I'll leave you alone.” 

Erik groans, rolling his eyes back and slumping his shoulders in annoyance. “_ I _ didn’t eat your food.”

“Baby!” Sienna whines, stomping her foot before she can stop herself. “Fuck you mean you didn’t eat my food if the box is damn near empty?”

Erik doesn’t say anything, but he does finally pause the game and removes the headset to stare uninterestedly up at her. 

“Why would you pick off _ my _ shit when you had leftovers too? I can’t just enjoy my fettuccine? You know a bitch _ love _ fettuccine! I ain’t ask for _ none _ of your shit, but your ugly ass gon put your lil’ sausage link fingers on _ my _ noodles and chicken knowing damn well I don’t eat shit else besides chicken tenders and fries! That’s some, like, Charles Manson type shit! Like, what the fuck?! I can’t just go out with my friends and get some food without you eating it?!” 

“Not my fault yo picky ass only eat chicken tenders and fries off the kid’s menu.” He shakes his head. “Nah, but for real, I didn’t eat your food.”

“You wanna get hurt, don’t you?” 

“You trippin’ off nothing.”

Her nostrils flare. “Oh, but if I fuck around and ate something of yours, you be losing your mind too!” 

“You _ do _ be eating what’s mine,” he reminds her. “All the time. Do I trip? No.”

She waves that off with a swift hand swipe. “Okay, I don’t know about where you from but where I’m from we don’t do no shit like that. You don’t eat somebody else food without asking, E, especially when you know I’ma notice! That’s so many levels of triflin’. Your big grown ass don’t even like fettuccine!” 

“Yeah, that’s why I didn’t eat your food.”

Absolutely astonished and disappointed with his response, Sienna shakes her head. “You know how serious my fat ass be taking my food, and you just gon’ lie?” 

“I didn’t eat your food, but if I did, I wouldn’t have eaten the whole thing.” 

“So you admit it! You would eat my food, and for that reason alone, I should kill you.”

Erik’s chest and shoulders bounce with rapid laughter. “You acting like a nigga ain’t gon never feed you again,” he chuckles, shaking his head fondly. 

“It’s the principle, nigga.”

“Ooh,” he whistles, adjusting himself on the cushion and resuming the game. “I’m ‘nigga,’ now. What happened to ‘baby’?” 

“You not even gon’ apologize?”

“For?”

And just like that, he’s reinvested in the game, yelling and barking orders on the headset. It’s his way of ending the discussion which has Sienna’s entire aura flashing red with strobe lights like a scene out of _ Kill Bill. _Instead of snatching the controller out of his hand and chucking it like she wants to, she counts to ten, exhaling deeply after each number to remain calm. 

As calm as she can be, anyway. 

Sienna makes a show out of moving from his line of vision, mentally stabbing him with her vicious stare. “I should’ve ordered the shit with shrimp so your ass would’ve choked to death,” she states on her way upstairs. She then turns midway to yell even louder when he continues to ignore her. “How you pushin’ forty allergic to shellfish?! Childish ass tryna overthrow Wakanda, whole time all T’Challa had to do was chuck a lobster at yo stupid ass!”

Erik doesn’t acknowledge her in the slightest, prompting an echoing door slam throughout the house on Sienna’s part.

Being the petty individual that she is, Sienna gives Erik the cold shoulder for the remainder of the day. Everything she had wanted to talk to him about—like her current client, their holiday plans, or redoing the basement—doesn’t matter now. Any moment of doubt where she falters and wants to give in, she remembers how disrespectful he really is and gets irritated all over again. In reality, it’s probably hurting her more than him, but she’s seven hours deep into it so she’s committed. 

Instead of being laid up under Erik on one of his rare days off, Sienna tidies their bed and bathroom, organizes her side of the closet, and finishes her cleaning rampage with doing inventory of her makeup. 

“He really has all the nerve,” Sienna says aloud to no one, checking the expiration date on a liquid highlighter before tossing it in the trash bin. “If it’s one thing niggas have, it’s the fuckin’ nerve. I’m up here, starving practically, and he don’t care. I swear I’ma leave his ass and then he be the one trippin’. I should rob him.”

The sun sets, turning day into night and bringing the moon and stars with it. Erik has been on the couch all day, playing his game and only stopping to eat and use the bathroom. He hasn’t checked up on Sienna not once and that alone fuels her anger—he’s in the wrong and it’s just like his rude ass to not even apologize or acknowledge his rudeness. Sienna’s blood boils beneath the surface of her skin just watching the disrespectful man at the top of the balcony like a hawk does its prey.

The mere sight of him completely relaxed has her plotting. If he really thinks he’s going to just enjoy his first day off in weeks, watch _ The Boondocks, _and eat chicken and waffles like he didn’t violate Sienna’s whole life, he is mistaken.

Rushing down there and killing him would only make matters worse, and he’d likely overpower her the second she did. She could sell his clothes and jewelry online to the highest bidder and then act stupid when he asks her about it, but that would do no damage to someone who could buy whatever he wants. The only other thing she could think of to get revenge is fucking someone else, but that’s far too extreme and ultimately not worth it. 

_ But _ eating her fucking fettuccine noodles was extreme. 

“This nigga really think he the king of some shit,” she mumbles on the way back into the bedroom. “He really think he just gonna sit on the couch and act cool after he ate _ my _ food? Oh, he _ crazy _ crazy.” 

She grabs her phone from the dresser, opening the LGTV app and connecting to the living room television. “Oh, I’ma show him crazy. Asylum. Straitjacket. All that shit.” 

In the midst of him laughing at a joke, Sienna switches the television off and ducks low to remain covert when Erik sits up to investigate. He doesn’t say anything at first, but he reaches for the remote on the coffee table to turn it on and resumes laughing seconds later. 

Sienna smirks, waiting until he’s comfortable again to turn the TV off again. 

“The fuck?” he utters and uses the remote to turn it back on. 

This time, she can’t help giggling behind her hand, wishing she could see the utter confusion written all over his face. “Dummy,” she whispers and lets him relax for a little while longer before turning the television off for the third time.

“Cuh, what the fuck,” he groans, lifting his hands frustratedly when he stands to approach the entertainment center. “This a brand new set; no way this shit tweaking.” 

Sienna carefully backs away from the railing just enough to not be seen when Erik begins resetting and pressing random buttons on the television in attempts to get it to act right. A mile wide smile stretches over her face when another aggravated sound erupts from his chest. 

She waits another five minutes again before switching up the game plan and flipping the channel this time. Erik stares in disbelief at the screen before him, trying to process the ever changing channels. He sits up, slowly leaning away from television as though it is possessed and turns his head to the side. From what she can tell, he’s deliberating on whether or not he should reach for the remote or not. 

“Yeah, look who trippin’ now,” she says, turning the TV off completely as if daring him to turn it back on again. He doesn’t, and it’s hilarious to say the least.

In the midst of his frozen fear, Sienna connects the app to the surround sound speakers embedded in the ceiling and chooses a song at random. Typically, an Ashanti and Ja Rule collaboration wouldn’t be scary, but judging by the way Erik jumps at the sudden noise, he’s scared today. 

“Oh, fuck nah,” he’s exclaiming, whipping his head around the first level of the house for an explaination. “Ayo, what the _ fuck— _”

Being the absolute demon she is, Sienna take it a step further by activating the WiFi lights installed around the room to make them flicker. Erik jumps and yelps, trying to make sense of his surroundings as he clings to the sofa arm as a lifeline. The obnoxious onslaught of sensory overload has him frozen in place in the most uncharacteristic way possible. She’s never seen him freeze up like this, but her love for her food outweighs her sympathy. 

She stops everything when the four minute song comes to an end and turns the television back on for good measure. The channel blares a loud reality show fight that Erik doesn’t pay attention to as he looks around again, anticipating something else to go haywire. The air feels tense and still, and Sienna barely catches herself before making a run for the bedroom when Erik rises to his feet and begins to jog towards the stairs. 

Laid haphazardly under their plush comforter, Sienna tucks her phone under her pillow and squeezes her eyes shut just in time for Erik to burst through the door and flick the lights on. 

“Yo, babe, get up!” he exclaims, using all his strength to shake her awake. “Wake up, pack a bag, grab a wig and some shoes. We gots to go!” 

Sienna puts on her best performance of waking up, rubbing her eyes and looking at him funny as he starts tossing clothes into a designer duffel bag. 

“What the fuck you talking bout—”

“I don’t need all that smartass shit you be talking right now!” Erik’s voice shakes. “Get up or you gon’ get left.”

Sienna buries her head in the pillow to hide her smirk and then gets up to meet him in the closet. “Baby, what’s going on?” she asks, cupping a gentle hand on his chin to make their eyes meet. “Why you shaking and shit?” 

Erik, in the most un-Erik way possible, is trembling all over with his forehead gathering beads of sweat and his expression petrified like a deer in headlights. Sienna’s internal smile drops at the sight of him—seeing someone who isn’t afraid of anything this frightened doesn’t compute right in her mind. 

“Yo, we got ghosts,” he explains in a hushed tone, glancing around the room like the walls are listening.

Sienna crosses her arms over her chest. “Ghosts,” she repeats, unbelieving. 

“Baby, I was chillin downstairs and all of a sudden the TV started doing that _ Poltergeist _ type shit. Lights was flickering and the goddamn music was playing loud as hell.” He inhales sharply and runs his hands over his face. “I’m not gon’ cap—the shit was scary. All the electronics was possessed. I don’t know how you ain’t hear it. I knew something was wrong with that colonizer-ass realtor you was forcing me to hire, ‘cus she sold my black ass some bullshit house built in the nineteen-thirties and shit with some fucking Great Gatsby ass ghosts creeping around and acting like I’m wrong for being in my house I pay the mortgage on—” 

Sienna nods in agreement, taking notice of how quickly the pitch in his voice rises as well as the speed at which the words leave his mouth. He continues packing and then slips on a pair of slides and a jacket, babbling to himself like a crazed man. 

“Baby,” she begins, taking a step toward him. 

“—and it wouldn’t be too bad if I moved back to the hood—,”

“E.” 

“—‘cus niggas don’t deal with ghosts! A drive-by? I be aight. But ghosts? _ Ghosts _? Do I look like the kinda nigga who deal with ghosts? I don’t! You can’t bust a cap in no ghost!” He pauses with his finger wagging. “You know what? Speaking of—”

Erik tosses the bag onto the closet island and crouches low to unlock the safe attached. Upon opening it, he places his fingertips into the identification plates and grabs his favorite gold plated pistol. 

“Can’t go nowhere without Ol’ Reliable,” he states, checking that the safety is on, tugging it in the band of his joggers and then grabbing his duffel. “A’ight, let’s roll.” 

“Don’t you think you overreacting?” Sienna asks, standing in the closet threshold with her head resting on the wall. “It was probably just the wind or something.”

Erik’s eyes go comically large. “You miss the part I said when the lights was flickering? The music. The TV. I think the house shook, too,” he recalls, hands in prayer position gesturing to his girlfriend. “It was some Hash Slinging Slasher type shit, and I’m not sticking around to get sliced up and dragged down the stairs and shit. I’m out.”

He slides past her, shaking his head in disbelief on the way out their bedroom. “That little fifteen percent white on your mama’s side got you thinking we supposed to coexist with ghosts.”

Sienna snickers, exiting the bedroom to lean against the balcony and watch him trot down the stairs and cautiously walk through the living room. “Maybe we wouldn’t have ghosts if you hadn’t eaten my leftovers,” she calls down to him just as he grabs the keys to his BMW and turn to the front door. 

The whole house goes eerily tense and quiet when Erik stops midway and stares at the wall, processing her words and taking them as a confession. A part of her is scared while the other is amused, resulting in a nervous gulp and biting her lip to keep from laughing.

After another handful of seconds, Erik turns, drops his duffel, and points an accusing finger up at her. Without saying anything, he makes his way to the stairs and Sienna wastes no time booking it for the bathroom, giggling hysterically as she does. 

“You in trouble!” he shouts after her in mock intimidation, sending a spark of excitement up her spine and spiking her adrenaline that much more. She locks the door and presses her weight against it as if that would stop him from using his bare hands to break it down.

“Open this damn door!” he booms from the other side.

“And if I don’t?” 

“I’ma break the shit down.” 

Sienna nods to herself since she figured as much. “You just gon’ end up hurting yourself.”

His fist bangs once on the other side, rattling the door on its hinges. Instead of getting scared, Sienna’s nipples grow hard and erect poking through her striped crop top because she’s nothing if not a total whore for Erik being rough. 

“You think the shit funny?” 

“I’m not laughing!” she insists, laughing her ass off as she spins in a circle giddily at the sweet revenge. 

“Don’t lemme get in there, ‘cus when I do I’m fucking you up, lil’ girl.”

“Ooh, I’m _ so _ scared.” 

“You really gon’ antagonize me while I’m strapped?”

“Nobody scared of your lil’ water gun, nigga. You shouldn’t have eaten my noodles.” 

Erik sighs like he’s on his last breath, patience wearing incredibly thin. “Open the door,” he demands calmly. “I need to show you something.” 

Sienna hesitates, hand hovering above the doorknob. “You not tryna trick me, are you?” 

“Man, getcho ass out here.” 

Sienna unlocks the door and cracks it just enough to see him peeking back with what is the most suspicious smirk she’s ever seen on a man. He switches his weight from foot to foot, watching her as she opens the door and matches his pose with a defiant chin jutted out. There’s rarely a trace of anger or even annoyance on his beautiful face, but Sienna’s stubborn pout doesn’t falter. 

“You gon’ stay mad over some noodles?” he wonders aloud. Her eyes narrow to daggers. 

“I’m not playing with you.”

He nods and very lovingly takes her hand in his to hold at his chest and kiss her knuckles as he leads her out of the bedroom. 

“Where we going?” she asks, agitation lacing her tone at the lack of an apology. 

“You gon’ see.”

They go down the hall, downstairs, and towards the back wing of the house where Erik’s office takes up the majority of their space. Sienna doesn’t come back here often. 

“What we doing back here?” she goes on, popping her hip out and crossing her arms over her chest when Erik lets her hand go to sit at his sleek, black desk. “And what the fuck do this gotta do with my fettuccine?” 

Erik does some rapid typing and clicking around on the keyboard and beckons her over with a determined look and a flick of his finger. Sienna obeys and comes around the desk to face the screen, only to be met with a still image of the high definition surveillance footage above the front door expanded in widescreen over the monitor. 

“What’s this?”

“Just watch,” he mumbles, pressing the spacebar to play the footage. “This from last night.” 

Sienna bends forward to watch, lips set in a thin line of irritation. The footage doesn’t show much aside from a stray cat passing by and the porch light flickering for about two minutes, and just when she’s about to complain, a dark blue car rolls into frame with headlights blazing its bright lights. 

From what she can tell, it’s her homegirl Aniyah’s car. She remembers being dropped off late, but everything else is fuzzy in her memory.

As the video plays on, a very inebriated and happy Sienna is seen being supported on either side by Aniyah and Ayesha to the front door, purse in one hand while the other holds the takeout box from the restaurant they went to. 

Sienna’s eyebrow raise. _ This _ is the part she _ doesn’t _ remember. 

Being the affectionately clingy drunk she is, Sienna holds onto her friends with a dopey smile and her head resting on Ayesha’s shoulder. Aniyah knocks on the door, mouthing something to her friends, but Sienna’s speech is too slurred for either of them to tell what she’s saying. 

Moments later, the front door opens and Erik emerges in just sweatpants and a durag, sleepily surveying the scene before him with his arms out to routinely collect his girlfriend. Aniyah is talking, gesturing with her hands that Sienna now notices hold her sparkly heels. In the midst of the exchange, Sienna slips on absolutely nothing, landing on her ass before any of them can catch her, effectively spilling the contents of her purse onto the pavement, as well as the box of leftovers. 

Current day Sienna’s face burns, starting at her neck and up to her forehead. She does everything in her power to not meet Erik’s dazzled eyes that shine with vindication when Sienna watches herself very contently eat her leftovers on the concrete while her friends and

Erik watch and attempt to get her off the ground. Ayesha gathers her purse belongings while Erik heaves her up bridal style, careful of her head as he carries her slump form into the house. Aniyah gets what she can of fettuccine noodles, chicken, and broccoli into the takeout box and pass it off to Erik when he comes back outside to thank them. 

Erik presses the spacebar to pause the video and leans back in his swivel chair to stare at Sienna, who has her lip poked out and eyelashes ready for batting. 

“_ Baby _,” she starts, making her voice small and precious, but Erik is roaring with laughter and shaking his head.

“Nah, what happened to all that shit you was talking, huh? You said you was gon’ kill me and all that shit, talking to me like I was some regular nigga off the street. You don’t remember that?” he reminds her childishly, snatching his arm back when Sienna tried to rub him down. “Uh-uh, lil’ girl, don’t try that shit. Now I’m mad.” 

“E,” she whines reluctantly, standing back up to bounce her leg like the brat she is. “_ C’mon _ . It’s not _ that _ deep.”

Erik grins up at her. “It was deep when it was on me, but when you in the wrong, it’s not _ that _ deep. Which is it ‘cus you can’t have the shit both ways.”

Sienna pouts. 

“Oh, but wait, not only did you blame me for some shit _ you _ did, but you scared the piss out of a nigga for nothing. Not a damn thing,” he feigns angrily. “What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?” 

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth at a loss for words. Erik waits patiently, tapping his foot and eyeing her up and down like he’s hungry. It will kill her to actually apologize and admit being in the wrong, so she might as well sweeten it up to both of their benefits.

Sienna stealthily straddles his waist, pressing against his groin as they balance the two of them on the chair. His grin disappears, but he continues looking at her like he’s about to devour her soul. She wraps her hands around his neck and swishes her ponytail about flirtatiously. 

“I apologize for blaming you for eating my fettuccine noodles even though it was my drunk ass who did it,” she begins. 

He gestures for her to continue. “And?”

“And I’m sorry for fucking with the apps to scare you. That was some wack shit.” 

“And?” 

She narrows her eyes. “And _ what _?” 

He wraps an arm around her waist to pull her upward on his lap and she complies. “You was talking to me like I was regular,” he reminds her with a lilt of hurt that she couldn’t decipher as genuine or not. “I’m _ not _ regular.”

Sienna cocks her head to the side again, analyzing her man with rose-colored glasses. Her heartstrings start tugging. “Aw,” she coos, learning in to peck his cheek and leaving a smudge of lipgloss on his skin. “I apologize, baby.” 

“You mean that?”

As quickly as she thought of her plan to scare him, she’s thinking of ways to make it up. Erik regards her with an eyebrow raised when she wiggles out of his grasp and back to her feet. 

“C‘mon,” she says, nodding to the door and taking his hand in hers just as he did earlier. 

“What?”

“You gon’ see.”

Sienna can barely cook much beyond the same four meals, but she does her best making him dinner and dessert. He eats while finishing _ The Boondocks _ and afterward, she runs him a bath and contently listens to all the things he wanted to tell her in the seven hours she was ignoring him.

“E,” she says in the middle of that night, mere minutes after he begins to snore.

“Hmmm.”

Sienna trains her eyes to see him through the dark of the room. “I ain’t know you was afraid of ghosts.”

He shrugs. “I’m afraid of a lot of shit.”

She places a tender hand to his chest and scoots closer to him. “Like what?”

He’s silent for a moment, but he didn’t begin snoring again, so he hadn’t fallen asleep. Sienna waits patiently, twirling the diamond studs in his earlobe. 

“I’m afraid of being without you,” he confesses nonchalantly, making her heart skip several beats. Snakes, small spaces, or spiders were among the lines of answers she expected. 

That admission alone keeps her up for a couple more hours than necessary. 


End file.
